


Blue

by olliya



Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen, Kirigakure history, Kirigakure | Hidden Mist Village, Kunoichi Week 2020, Unrequited Love, mentions of past sex-work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:42:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25116340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olliya/pseuds/olliya
Summary: Mei's last evening before taking up the Mizukage's post. For Kunoichi Week 2020
Relationships: Background Terumi Mei/Momochi Zabuza, Momochi Zabuza/Terumi Mei
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Blue

**Author's Note:**

> For Kunoichi Week 2020
> 
> Prompts: Ranking and Color Palette
> 
> This fic follows the same storyline as my previous Mei-fic (Burn the Orchard) in terms of her life history and the politics of Kirigakure. Nevertheless, I tried spelling things out again, so this fic can (hopefully) be read as stand-alone.
> 
> Inspired by Mei’s blue lipstick on one of early renditions of manga’s colored pages.

Mei opened her make up box. A palette of shades of red – from crimson to pale pink - was closed in small round containers. She opened her usual – peony hue and examined it critically.

How one's mouth looked like was governed by entire sets of rules and customs in Kiri. It was probably because due to frequent rains everyone wore large, conical hats, and more often than not you would see only the lower half of person's face. So, one's mouth was important. Unmarried women painted a heart-like shape on their lips to look cute and innocent. Married women coloured in entire contours. Pregnant ones darkened their teeth with paste made from seaweeds that supported child's growth and facilitated the birth. Seven swordsmen filed their teeth into spikes.

Mei closed the pink lipstick container. This won't do. She picked up the darkest shade of crimson – the one she used in the undercover in-brothel missions - and smeared it experimentally on her lips.

No. That won't do either. She wiped it away and drummed her fingers on the dresser. She threw a glimpse on the bed where the dress prepped for tomorrow lied spread. Blue silk, adjusted from one of her undercover mission's robes. She had cut a half of the skirt away, and now it was nothing short from scandalous. But that was exactly what Mei wanted.

She knew what people thought about her. Stained with two kekkei genkai. No clan. No family. And her looks. Her looks made her stand out, made heads turn. She could never blend in; she had long learnt not to bother. It was better to embrace it. But it wasn't sexuality that she wanted to convey tomorrow. It was power great enough to elevate her above the contempt of people. Starting tomorrow, she'll be a Kage. And, gods help her, will she make her own rules.

She threw one more look into her vanity case. None of the reds will do. She needed blue.

Mei stood up. She will need some pigment then, she thought picking up her purse. Good that she had long already learnt how to prep her own make-up. Ordinary cosmetics stood no chance against the acid mist coming from her mouth. Even when she wasn't using Boil Release in combat, there was always residual concentration of acid in the air she exhaled. She could suppress it for some time, but it had limits and required conscious effort. She couldn't get rid of it.

Hence, everything in her surrounding was either adapted to the predicament or wore traces of acid. She kept the windows of her apartment permanently open to keep the exchange of air. Metal cutlery didn't last long with her – she needed porcelain or wood. She had to exchange her mirror circa once a year. And to store all her weapons on the balcony.

Mei ran down the stairs. Her neighbour plastered herself to the wall as she passed, throwing her the usual, ugly look. Mei opened the door with her elbow, mindful of the agreement with the landlord. This way it was easy; going in it was a problem, when she had to pull the door not using her hands. But others tenants didn't want her touching the same surfaces they touched, so she had to. That was one of the conditions of even getting to rent this flat. _'Today for the last time,'_ she thought pushing the doorknob.

She took a turn towards the harbor – the shop with pigments for artists and bookmakers was there. When she came home an hour later, she was carrying four different types of dyes, several porcelain containers and a new set of brushes. She had no experience with the blues, and many pigments reacted with her acid. The bee wax, that was the basis of all her cosmetics - as it was one of the few substances totally resistant - protected the pigments to some extent, but it was better to use the durable once.

She swiped things off the table and set off to work. Azurite blue reacted immediately as soon as she breathed a moderate amount of acid at it. Ultramarine and cobalt blue held out a little longer, but after a minute or so started bubbling and gave off awful, acrid smells. Lazurite powder remained, as blue as it was. Mei smiled.

Not for everything her lips meant destruction. It was a comforting thought. Pity that so few knew it, and even fewer were bold enough to try.

No one, in fact.

No one ever touched her. As if touching her equaled death. Which wasn't true – the acid vapour came only from her mouth, and she _could_ control it. She could even kiss someone without causing him harm. But it took time to discover it. Sometimes Mei wished she knew it earlier. Maybe then she would have been braver with Zabuza. Maybe she would have initiated something instead of waiting.

No, Mei shook her head. That wouldn't have helped. Even if she would have told him what she felt to him straight into his face, it wouldn't have helped. He never liked her this way. She wasn't desirable for him. That was such a sad realization, but she reached it already some years ago. Sometimes she mused that maybe he wasn't scared off by her kekkei genkai. That maybe he just didn't fancy her. Mei wasn't sure which alternative she liked less.

Still, she did what she could, everything that could have been done while keeping her face. And keeping at least their fragile friendship intact. She would always sit next to him, dressed up extra nicely for him, sought out every opportunity to meet with him. Gave him all her attention when he was talking, didn't take her eyes off him. Laughed at his jokes, even when they were rather morbid. Stood by him long after their genin team had been dissolved.

There were those couple of years when she craved, with every fiber of her being, to touch him. She sometimes did - brushed fingers along his arm, let her knee bump against his. She saw him jerk away, as burnt. As if a mere touch from her was corrosive. It wasn't. It wasn't. It was all in his head. He just didn't want to touch her. Was she repulsive? She hoped not. She hoped that at the very least she wasn't repulsive.

But still, she waited. Against all logic, she hoped.

Of course, it had to backfire.

She missed her chances of getting a carefree tumble behind a barn during one mission or another, with some nice village boy that knew nothing of her powers. A joyous tryst where both parties at least honestly desired each another.

Instead of that, at some point she was so old that she had to accept one of _those_ missions. Not that anyone would have asked Mei's consent - her blood stained with kekkei genkai, clanless and pariah. So, she did, and after two weeks of successfully avoiding customers' advances by putting them, as all kunoichi on such missions did, under genjutsu once in the room, her luck ran out. The client was so impatient that he didn't wait until they reached upstairs. The mission's success was on stake and Mei, not skilled enough in genjutsu to pull off one invisible to the bystanders, had to surrender her virginity on a sofa in the corner of a common room of the brothel. The guy was so drunk that he didn't even notice. Neither did anyone else, and of that achievement Mei was eternally proud.

The client returned three days later, significantly less drunk that time. All the way upstairs he kept telling her how wonderful and beautiful she was, and how she was his favourite girl. Once the doors closed Mei didn't put him under genjutsu. It served no purpose. The guy had had her already so what difference did it make? She was numb, as if she wasn't occupying her own body; she didn't have in her to want or not want anything.

He turned out to be, as girls called it, an easy customer. He was done in three minutes, and spent the rest of his paid time cuddling with her, and between the constant caresses to her breasts and kisses everywhere he could reach, he told her all about his coalmine company, the problems with prize drops, unreliable workers and supply shortages, and promised to visit next time he is in town. The numbness was gone by then. Mei had to fight hard to hold back her tears - he was the first person who held her so close. No one did that. For sure not the caretakers in that hell on earth that was the orphanage. Neither did Kisame and Zabuza, though they were her teammates, her true friends. That man touched her voluntarily, and even not out of desire for her flesh. Just for the closeness with her.

He gave her a pendant, a garish pink crystal flower – Mei suspected it was ordinary glass – so kitschy and tasteless that she had to cringe each time she looked at it. She still had it in her drawer. And, since among the infodump the guy also gave her his name, she was including prayers for his health in her New Year's shrine visit, along with those for the safety of Zabuza and everlasting peace for the souls of her parents.

Zabuza defected shortly after this incident. Not that it would have changed anything.

He defected and she never even got to tell him how much she loved him.

Now, years later, she was coming to a conclusion that he knew all along.

That made only sadder.

But she couldn't blame him. She couldn't blame him for the preconceived notions and superstitions that were ingrained into him since childhood. For the disgust and fear he couldn't control. (Was it disgust? Was it?!) He never wronged her, he acted with nothing but respect towards her. When the conspiration to throw down Yagura started to take shape and it was becoming obvious that Mei was the leader, he never questioned her decisions

Even for his premature attack on Yondaime, she couldn't blame him. He got impatient that the coup preparations were taking too long. They were long indeed and Zabuza was always impatient. A bit like a wild horse. Mei was actually surprised that he remained so put and obedient in the conspiracy for entire three years. That he managed to reign in his independent streak for the sake of the cause.

She cried a river when he fled. But at least he did manage to flee. He didn't die. He didn't get captured and tortured to death. He didn't disclose the identity of other conspirators. Their secret unit still existed.

And they succeeded. Yesterday.

Or rather, it was two days ago already. Mei spent the first day lying half-unconscious from exhaustion. Kisame came in in the late afternoon to check on how she was doing. She wanted to know about the others. He was so hesitant to tell her, poor Kisame. Only six of them survived. But it was worth it. Yagura was dead, dead as he deserved thousand times over. Pity that you could kill someone only once.

Mei shook her head. No, that's not a pity. She should thank all the gods that they succeeded even this one time. She still felt nauseous at the memories - her comrades, her friends torn and trampled by the raging Sanbi. But the Uzushio girl did her job. Mei never fully trusted her skills, but the girl managed to sever the connection between the beast and the human. Thankfully. Shielded within his beast, Yondaime would have been unbeatable; alone, abandoned by his closest ally, he was vulnerable again. Mei didn't remember whose blow took him out. Maybe indeed it was hers.

The paste was mixed, uniform, dark blue. Mei smeared it on the back of her hand and examined it critically. It turned out really well. That's what she will wear tomorrow. On the plaza, the details like the make-up will go unnoticed. But then, in the council meeting, this is where she wanted it to be seen. Blue. Blue like Mizukage's insignia. Blue like the waters around Kiri.

She may have been young, she may carry a despised bloodline, she might have carried out missions that ruined her chances of ever leading a life of a respectable woman, but she was a Kirigakure shinobi. And starting tomorrow, she will be Kirigakure's Kage. The council can cooperate or vanish. They will not intimidate her. She will intimidate _them_.

A gentle knock ripped her out of her thoughts. In the open balcony door stood Kisame. Mei smiled – always so well-behaved.

"Just wanted to check if you've eaten already?"

Mei shook her head.

"Do you want to go out? It can be the last time you can, without the bodyguards and all that fuss," added Kisame when she was slow with her answer.

"Not really. That's not that much fun when people leave the restaurant when you enter," she quipped.

Kisame sighted. "I thought so. That's why I brought you this." He produced a huge packet of take-away food from behind the balcony railings. "I also thought you won't say no to some company."

"No. I won't." Mei laughed and made an inviting gesture.

"Are you painting?" Kisame scrutinized the mess on her table with furrowed brow, searching for space to deposit his package.

"No, just prepping for tomorrow."

"About tomorrow," picked up Kisame unwrapping the packet. "We need to discuss the security. And don't tell me you won't be needing it!" he added as she grimaced in disdain. "I will be by the dais, along with Ganryū. They won't know where will you stand, so if there is an attacker then he will aim to hit you when you will be entering the stage. Still. Let's discuss from which direction you'll arrive and where will you stand so that Midori and Saizō can be around you."

She wanted to dismiss his overprotectiveness, actually she was just opening her mouth to do that, when the absence of the fifth name caught her attention. "And Ameyuri?"

Kisame shook his head. "Still in hospital. There is no way she could be on her feet until tomorrow. She will need a month, if all goes well."

"That bad?!"

"The coral went right through her. Those wounds… I don't even understand how they patched her up. There was not a single clean cut there, everything torn into shreds. She must avoid all movement in order for the stiches to hold."

"Poor Ameyuri! Lying still - it must be a torture for her! And how awful must it look?!"

"It looks pretty impressive. She showed me. But she's not particularly upset. Said that relying on her feminine charms was never her forte, unlike yours."

Mei smiled. "Did she? Well, at least she hasn't lost her snark. In these circumstances it's good news."

"So, where will you stand?" Kisame came back to his point.

Mei sighed. Kisame's fears weren't entirely unjustified. Mizukage election was a violent process in its very core. As the seat was vacated, the council made an announcement to the populace of the village gathered on the plaza in front of the Mizukage palace. Then, the contenders could step up.

If there was more than one… Well… Then the strongest one, or the one with strongest backing won. That was how Gengetsu Hōzuki became the Second Mizukage. Orochigao was the one groomed by Shodai to be his successor. But he was overconfident, he underestimated the old clans' fraction.

He survived, escaped through a reverse summoning performed by his Great Serpent, and hid in the Land of Fire for many years. There were even rumors that he had a family there. Only rumors though, and if they were true, Sandaime hid his family so well that none of his enemies had ever found them.

When he came back, a decade later, his snakes filled Mizukage's office so completely that the Jōki Boi clone of Nidaime didn't even have a place to move.

"Are there any contra-candidates?"

"None that I know of. Rather, well, there can be people in the crowd that could act on an impulse."

"Yes. I know. Whose blood will boil seeing that bitch carrying two kekkei genkai stepping up to Mizukage seat."

Kisame shrugged. "Something like that."

"We cannot control the entire crowd. I will fend for myself. If someone attacks me, I'll deal with him." With the corner of her eye she saw Kisame deflate, worried and helpless in the face of her stubbornness. "I'll stand in the southern section of the plaza. Between the bookstore and the fountain." It served no purpose to force her agenda. He, and the rest of their group, only wanted the best for her. She should shove her arrogance into the pocket and start acting as a leader. A leader listens to concerns of his subordinates.

Kisame was undoing the straps of Samehada in order to sit down. Tension was away from his face - he was relieved by Mei's willingness to cooperate.

"That you have to bring this animal everywhere with you," snorted Mei as he laid the sword on the floor and loosened the bandages around it.

"She hates being left alone. Starts misbehaving. Last week she almost broke out of the flat because there were some people on the corridor, she was hungry and, apparently, liked their chakra. Got me into troubles with the neighbors," said Kisame dividing the food - six containers for him, one for her. "And I know you secretly adore her."

"I do."

Samehada crawled towards Mei. She maneuvered her foot between the bandages and stroked the sword, scratching the scales with her toes. Samehada arched, leaning into her touch, gently draining Mei's chakra. That was so nice to have something to search contact with her. Even if it was a creepy, chakra-eating monster-sword. "There, there, that's a good girl. But let me eat," she said patting the front part of Samehada that just climbed on her lap.

She saw Kisame trying to hold back a smile, like a parent seeing his child praised in public. He opened all six boxes and aligned them in front of himself.

"Are you planning to eat all this?" asked Mei incredulously, pointing at the mountain of food in front of Kisame.

"Of course. I'm still growing! I need proper nourishment." Kisame put entire chicken leg into his mouth.

Mei laughed. "Kisame, you're 21. Shouldn't you stop growing already?!"

"Nope. The longer I live, the bigger I'll get. My goal is to overgrow that bastard Suikazan."

"You've killed him already. You don't need to prove that you're better than him anymore. He's gone. You _were_ better."

"Ah, I didn't mean in that way. I plan to live longer. To live a long and happy life."

"Long and happy, huh? Might not be that easy..."

"I believe in you, my Lady Mizukage."

"Not a Mizukage just yet. Wait until I don those robes."

On a hint, Kisame's eyes travelled to the dress on Mei's bed.

"About the robes. Are you going to wear this?" Kisame pointed to the dress. Mei savored the flabbergasted look on his face. " _This_? Why don't you spare yourself the effort and go naked instead?!"

Mei laughed. Kisame had all those big brother's instinct even though he was one year her junior.

"Where did you even get this thing from?"

"One of my dresses I had on the Land of Rivers' Daimyo mission."

Kisame cringed. "Ah. That."

He hated when she was sent on those missions. Mei, on the other hand, stopped minding them at some point. Whenever the target or a client turned out attractive enough, she slept with them. Having someone not recoil from her touch was for Mei like a breath of air to a drowning man.

And the Daimyo of the Land of Rivers assassination mission was the pinnacle of her career. Not only the target was of the highest profile, but also finally her superiors acknowledged the usefulness of Mei's kekkei genkai. To kill a Daimyo was rarely a problem. To kill one so that the political turmoil was avoided was a different thing. And their client, the heir apparent, just wanted his father to meet the honorable ancestors a tad earlier. Of course, without raising any suspicions. Mei was sent to pose as a new concubine. As she was chosen to spent the night with the Daimyo, her Boil Release was the perfect weapon. She waited until the old man mounted her, and then, well, she kissed him. Passionately. Her chakra-enhanced strength came useful to hold him down, while her acid burned his lungs. To make sure he was _really_ dead, she waited good couple of minutes with him still sheathed inside her (which was frankly the most disturbing part of the whole ordeal), until she screeched a bloody murder in her most girly and panicked voice. Mission was a complete success as everyone assumed the Daimyo overexerted his heart enjoying his youngest concubine. Even if autopsy was ordered (which was out of question, as the grief-stricken new ruler wouldn't hear about a desecration of his father's corpse), the only thing it would have found was some congealed blood in the lungs. Mei's acid left no traces.

"Wear at least a mesh under it, will you?" Kisame stopped eating and looked at her pleadingly. "Please, tell me you will."

Mei shook her head. "No. A Kage doesn't have to shield herself from her people."

"Nonsense. Yagura never stepped out of the tower without a mesh armour. And twelve guards."

"If one has to do such things, then one is not a Kage."

"But you will take some weapons…?"

"I carry my weapons inside me. All the time." Mei put her hand to her chest and smiled. On the second thought though – both Lava and Boil Release were wide-range jutsu. Good for crowd control, for sure. But that was not her aim - she didn't plan to terrorize the people into accepting her. "But alright. I will take some shuriken and kunai with me." That would do better for singling out an attacker.

Her village was a tricky place to love and thrive in. Brutality was ingrained into its very name, soaked into the soil the houses stood on. Still, it was her home. She will cut out the ulcers that were plaguing it. And then she will heal its wounds.

* * *

The next morning, she painted her lips blue in practiced, confident strokes. Entire lips. Her village was her spouse, starting today.

Just as Kisame feared, an attacker lunged at her when she was walking down the aisle. A jōnin-ranked shinobi from Biwa clan. She knew him superficially. He wouldn't sit and watch as a kekkei genkai whore takes over Mizukage's post - he bawled at her.

"Then don't watch," she told him. She sent shuriken into both of his eyes and stepped up the dais not looking back.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I surely did enjoy writing it, as I've jammed all my headcanons about Mei and Kirigakure history into this fic, and it was so much fun! Thanks for reading and please let me know your thoughts.


End file.
